It’s 6:15 am on Thursday morning and normally I would be willing myself to get up from a deep slumber to make the hellish, one-hour commute northbound on the NJ turnpike from Point Pleasant, NJ, to Metro Park - in just enough time to sprint to the 8:16 train into NYC for a summer internship.

Instead, I’m looking out at golden patches of farmland stretching for miles along the hillside of Urbino, Italy (lucky me). The sky is a beautiful light blue and I’m stretching out with my fellow Urbino fitness fanatics (or freaks in the eyes of natives) for an early morning jog. I discovered that  jogging is not a familiar hobby in Urbino after being “crow”ed at by students who stumbled into the dorms as I was lacing up my sneakers. Confidence unshaken and eager to start our first day in Urbino, we run down the winding narrow path from the University to the central town square. On the main highway several more students pass, dressed head-to-toe in pink and do a double take as if our group resembled a herd of exotic animals. [Yet it was totally normal to be coming home at 6:45 resembling a flamingo.]  Similar looks, chuckles and grumbles emit from café clerks setting up for their early-morning clients.

The sun is starting to warm up and you can tell it’s going to be a hot day; not even 7:15am and my breathing is beginning to become labored and I find myself questioning why I couldn’t be running on a treadmill in an air-conditioned gym. Much to our surprise, the University of Urbino does not have a gym on campus, something unheard of to all the American students and a major let down to a few athletes. At first I was actually shocked, I couldn’t remember the last time I ran without the assistance of a machine to track my speed, time and mileage. Did I mention Urbino is a hillside town – emphasis on hills. I haven’t run up a hill since my senior year of high school during cross-country practice. At this point in our jog I’m beginning to think how crazy it is not to have a gym on your school campus and how the heck do all these Italians stay so skinny if nobody exercises or jogs.

And then as we get to the very edge of the city walls. I look around and can see only golden squares of farmland, dotted with tall windy cypress trees and a few ancient palazzos. The highway is free of bumper-to-bumper traffic, there are no angry businesspeople rushing to catch their trains and no worries about NJ transit breaking down for the fourth time in a week.

For the past few days I have been realizing the Italian culture treasures their moments like they treasure a morning cup of coffee. Literally, there is not a to-go cup to be found in this entire city. So maybe tomorrow I’ll opt out of the morning run, enjoy a cappuccino at daybreak and walk the narrow city streets to capture a few treasured moments.